


what we know is nothing is perfect and everything is stardust

by Wizardkid



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Baze Malbus - Freeform, Beach Scene, Canon Compliant, Cassian Andor - Freeform, Chirrut Îmwe - Freeform, F/M, Jyn Erso - Freeform, Not A Fix-It, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sad, im sorry lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29655693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizardkid/pseuds/Wizardkid
Summary: this is the end, and their souls turned to seaglass (the shortest drabble ever) (it's basically poetry)
Relationships: Cassian Andor & Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	what we know is nothing is perfect and everything is stardust

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3am when I first realized I wanted to start writing again like a month ago, it's taken me far (despite how short it is) :) sadly these two wonderful characters are inevitably cursed in their undoing but I love them nonetheless. You can find the tumblr version of this drabble [here](https://plxtokid.tumblr.com/) (please go give it some love). Please enjoy <3

in a final moment, she wished.

Jyn wished that in another life, the sands of a beach somewhere far away from here remembered the shape of her body in the sand next to Cassian Andor.

The waves would greet them knowing they would return to step on the coast again.

She wished that somewhere else, there was a beach that wasn’t coated with bullet shells and empty husks. But there she would watch the sun rise and set, and sink and reach, grow and die for as long as she knew how to be within his reach.

The sea foam would trace her fingers intertwined with them. It would remember the outline of his arms and his face buried in her neck. They would taste the same salt air, and the suns would smile down on them at two of the same. His gaze and touch as he held her face in his hands would not be as if it was his last, but as if it was a blessing that would grace him for eternity. Salt soaked fingers would recall the feeling of his stubble and the heat from his cheeks.

Her soul may be out there somewhere else on a beach, and his would fit to her like broken shells eroded and softened by the rocks and tide as they always were: two parts of a whole that fit because of what had come before. There is where she would exist in his life for longer than the stars had allowed her to in her reality, an existence which crumbled in her palms like dry earth.

Their beach would know more than the grief. Pain that only the sands of Scarif knew as it turned from rock, to sand, to dust. And eventually, a nickname lost in the smoke of faceless wars would be what becomes of it.


End file.
